A Little Help with Potions
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Shortly after the summer holidays, Harry comes down with a Muggle disease, passing it over to the whole school. However, even if the house-elves take care of students and teachers, Severus has to brew potions for them, and maybe he needs some help. AU/OOC


**A Little Help with Potions**

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon in the second week of the school year, and the Gryffindor common room was full of students, who were excitedly talking, joking, playing, or doing their homework. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were eagerly working on their Transfiguration homework, but Hermione noticed in concern that Harry's scribbling was often interrupted when the third year Gryffindor fiercely rubbed his forehead as if a massive headache was bothering him.

"Harry, are you all right?" she queried, absentmindedly flipping through her second year Transfiguration notes.

"I'm fine," Harry replied in a small voice, musing, '_apart from a splitting headache that is_.' During the next hour, he tried to resist the urge to rub his forehead as well as he could and finally finished his Transfiguration homework.

"All right, what shall we do next?" Hermione enquired. "Potions or Charms?"

"Nothing," Ron replied, "it's nearly time for dinner, and I'm hungry."

"I don't want to eat right now, and I've only got an hour, before I have to leave for my detention with Snape, so I'm going to begin with my Potions homework," Harry disagreed, causing Hermione to throw him a sharp look.

"Harry, your face looks very yellowish," she said in an alarmed tone as she reached over and felt the boy's forehead. "You're also a bit warm. Harry, are you really feeling all right?"

"Not really," Harry admitted in a small voice, "but it's not bad, I only have a tremendous headache."

"I don't think you've only a headache, you don't look good Harry. Let me take you to the hospital wing," Hermione contradicted firmly, causing Harry to object vehemently.

"No Mione! All right, I'll go and lie down for an hour until my detention, but I won't go to the hospital wing."

"Very well, I'll accompany you," Hermione decided and stood up. "Ron, could you please send Professor McGonagall to us on your way down to the Great Hall?"

"Okay," Ron agreed and left the common room.

Harry slowly gathered his books and notes and followed Hermione up into his dormitory, sighing in relief as his achy head hit the pillow. Hermione sat on the edge of his bed, giving him a piercing look.

"Sorry Mione, I'm all right, you can go to dinner," Harry mumbled. "Could you please wake me up in time for my detention?"

"I'm going to stay here with you, Harry," Hermione replied soothingly, "and I don't know if you'll be able to attend your detention at all. "I'd like to check your temperature first."

"No Mione, just let me rest for a while," Harry groaned, closing his eyes.

"Mr. Potter, what's wrong?" Professor McGonagall queried crisply as she entered the dormitory.

"He only complains about a headache, but I think he looks slightly yellowish and feels warm to the touch," Hermione informed the teacher, who pointed her wand at a tissue on Harry's night table transfiguring it into a thermometer.

"Please open your mouth," she ordered Harry, sticking the thermometer under his tongue when he complied.

"When are we going to learn how to conjure objects or transfigure tissues in random objects?" Hermione queried in complete amazement, causing the professor to smile at her best student.

"It's not as difficult as it seems, Ms. Granger," McGonagall explained, pointing her wand at the next tissue. "Mantelifigo," she cast a spell, causing the tissue to transform into a towel. She waved her wand putting a wetting charm and a cooling charm on the small towel, before she gently adjusted it to Harry's forehead, noticing that the boy unconsciously leaned into the cool touch. She took the thermometer back, glancing at the figures on the display. "37.8," she said thoughtfully, "that's not really a fever, but it's higher than it should be. Do you want me to call Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," Harry replied heatedly, "I'm fine. I just have a bit of a headache, that's all."

"All right then, Mr. Potter. I suggest that you remain in bed for now, and I'll come and check on you again after curfew," the professor said gently.

"All right, but I don't know when I'll be back, because I have to serve detention in the Potions classroom," Harry gave back, nestling deeper under his covers.

"I'll excuse you with Professor Snape," McGonagall offered in a soft voice, causing Harry to get very upset.

"No Professor, please don't do that. He'd sneer about it for ages; attending detention is the lesser evil."

"As you wish," the teacher agreed, frowning. "I'll come and check on you again later tonight." She called Dobby and asked him to bring dinner for Hermione and Harry, before she left the dormitory.

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Professor Snape motioned Harry to take a seat on the opposite side of his desk and held a short monologue about the dangerousness of brewing potions. "Maybe you use the time while you're cleaning dirty cauldrons without magic to think about how dangerous it was that you closed your eyes in the middle of the brewing process, causing your potion to explode."

"Yes sir," Harry replied and stood up, holding on to the desk for a moment until the dizziness passed that overcame him instantly.

Snape gave the boy a sharp look noticing that his face looked yellowish, while his cheeks were slightly flushed and his eyes looked glazed over. "Are you ill, Mr. Potter?" he queried. "If so, I suggest that you go to see Madam Pomfrey."

"I'm fine, I just have a bit of a headache and a slight temperature, and Professor McGonagall said she'd come again to check on me after curfew," Harry replied in a small voice.

"In that case," the professor said pensively, "you're going to stay put and write lines." He pointed his wand at an empty parchment, causing a sentence to appear. "One hundred times," he said, placing the parchment in front of Harry.

'_I must not close my eyes while brewing a dangerous potion_,' Harry read for himself and began to write, feeling extremely grateful towards the professor for changing the content of his detention. Unfortunately, Harry noticed after a while that he could hardly concentrate on his writing. His headache became worse by the hour and he began to feel very lightheaded. He nearly jumped startled when he suddenly felt an icy cold hand on his forehead.

"Mr. Potter, you may finish your sentences after your recovery," the professor told him in a soft silky voice. "You're burning up, and I'm going to take you to the hospital wing right away."

"Okay," Harry mumbled wearily and registered that the teacher gathered his parchments and his quill in his school bag, before he gently helped him up and steadied him as they walked all the way up to the hospital wing.

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Madam Pomfrey hurried out of her office at the sight of Harry and Severus entering the hospital wing together with Harry leaning heavily on Severus' arm. She led the boy to the bed right next to her office and instantly began to run a diagnostic spell on him.

"I can't find anything wrong except for the fact that he is running a fever of nearly forty degrees, and I see of course that he's getting a rash," she finally said, throwing the Potions Master a helpless look. "Maybe it's a Muggle disease."

Snape threw Harry a piercing look, before he queried pensively, "Could it be Muggle rubella? I remember that a child in the neighbourhood had it when I was a child, but as far as I know the fever doesn't get as high."

Madam Pomfrey let out a small gasp. "That might be, Severus. The problem is that Muggle rubella is very dangerous for wizards and goes along with a very high fever. There is no difference if the person had wizard's rubella before or not, and it is highly contagious. Did you have Muggle rubella when you were a child, Severus?"

"No, I don't think so," Snape replied, sighing. "Poppy, what kind of potions do you need? I'm going to brew enough to cure the whole school as long as I can."

"We don't have a remedy against it just like we don't have any against wizard's rubella. I can only give him fever reducers and headache potions or pain relievers, but otherwise he just has to wait it out. I haven't had a case so far in all these years, but I assume that he'll need at least a week of bed rest. As far as I know the incubation period is two to three weeks for Muggles but will probably be from much shorter for magical people in a magical environment, maybe just a day."

'_Leave it to me to get something Madam Pomfrey has never experienced_,' Harry thought, groaning inwardly.

While Madam Pomfrey went to fetch a few potions for Harry, Snape turned to the door to spend the rest of the evening in his potions lab preparing for a mass outbreak of Muggle rubella. He had just reached the door when Professor McGonagall entered the hospital wing with Hermione in tow.

"You don't look much better than Mr. Potter," Pomfrey told her as she motioned her into the bed next to Harry's. "They have Muggle rubella, Minerva, and frankly speaking I expect the whole school to come down with it. If you have any other sick students, just put them to bed and call me. We'll leave everyone in their respective Houses to reserve the hospital wing for especially bad cases or our colleagues."

Pomfrey threw McGonagall a sharp look. "I believe you're the next on bed rest, Minerva." She pointed her wand at her friend's head, sighing. "Yes, you're already running a temperature. Take the next bed, Minerva, and lie down."

"But I have to..."

"No. You only have to go to bed and stay there until I tell you otherwise," Pomfrey said sternly, causing Hermione and Harry to chuckle.

After Madam Pomfrey had spelled fever reducers and headache potions into Hermione and Minerva, she hurried to the fireplace to inform the Headmaster. "Albus, you must inform our colleagues and the house-elves. This illness is very contagious but only to humans. Elves can't get them, and as I suspect the whole school to get ill, you better ask the house-elves to take care of everyone. Severus is just brewing as many potions as he can, before he comes down with it himself."

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When Harry woke up in the morning, he saw that all the teachers were in beds in the hospital wing. Only Madam Pomfrey was still on her feet and looked after all of them, but her face had a yellowish touch, and Harry noticed that she was shivering as she sat on the edge of his bed to take his temperature.

"Madam Pomfrey, shouldn't you lie down as well? You're just as ill as everyone else here," he said softly, throwing her an unfocused look.

"I know, but I should go and brew some potions. Professor Snape didn't manage to brew enough for everyone to last longer than a day, before he came down with it. I only checked on you, because I hoped your fever had broken by now, but it's still as high as it was yesterday."

"Please go to bed, Madam Pomfrey. Maybe there is someone still healthy in the castle, who can help," Harry told the Healer, who obviously felt too bad to keep herself on her feet any longer.

Harry noticed two house-elves walking around the room, placing potions phials and small bowls of soup on some of the night tables, before they gently helped Professors Sprout and Flitwick with their meal.

'_That's all my fault. I caught it from Dudley. Perhaps I should have stayed at the Dursleys'_,' he mused, feeling extremely guilty as he drifted back to fever induced dreams that soon turned into nightmares about his relatives.

When Harry woke up startled, still begging his uncle for mercy because of being ill, a soft silky voice penetrated his ears. "Easy Mr. Potter, your uncle is not here. You're safe at Hogwarts," the voice told him, causing him to drowsily open his achy eyes just a little bit, wearily recognizing Professor Snape sitting on the edge of his bed and gently wiping his hot face with a cool towel.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," Harry whispered horrified, noticing that it was dark outside and the hospital wing was only lit by a few torches.

"It's all right, Mr. Potter, I had to get up to brew some more potions anyway," Snape told him softly, causing Harry to frown. "No sir, Madam Pomfrey told me you were as ill as I am. You can't possibly brew potions right now."

Snape let out a small snort. "Go back to sleep Mr. Potter. The earlier you sleep, the earlier I can do what I have to do."

"All right, sir, but I'm going with you and help. Look it's my fault that everyone is ill, and if you tell me what to do I'm sure I can help you."

"Very well Mr. Potter," Snape said tiredly and slowly walked towards the door, followed by a shivering third year Gryffindor.

They steadied each other all the way down to the dungeons, where Snape led Harry into his private lab. "We need to brew pain relieving potions first," he explained, gathering the ingredients, before he instructed Harry how to prepare them. While Harry busied himself cutting and chopping the ingredients as he had been told, Severus set up a cauldron and began with the brewing process. An hour later, the first batch was done, and Severus sighed in relief. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. That was the first batch out of at least five, which I have to brew. Are you feeling well enough to assist with another one?"

"Yes of course," Harry replied in spite of feeling absolutely horrible. '_Snape is probably feeling as bad as I, so we just have to do this_,' he mused as he began to repeat the process.

Half through the brewing process, Dobby popped up behind them. "Dobby is sorry for interrupting, but Master Harry needs to gets his next dose of potions." He held two phials on his left hand and with a flip of his fingers spelled them into Harry's system, before he touched Harry's forehead with one finger and once more flipped his fingers, shaking his head. "Master Harry has too high fever to be doings this," he lightly scolded the boy, before he popped away, causing Severus to smirk.

"Ah, that feels much better," Harry breathed in relief as he set to work again.

"You know that you don't have to do this," Snape told him, raising an eyebrow.

"I know," Harry replied shortly, feverishly trying to concentrate on what he was doing.

They managed to brew three batches of the potion, before they couldn't keep themselves upright anymore. Dreading the long walk back to the hospital wing in their condition, Snape suggested to Harry to lie down on one of the sofas in the living room, while he let himself sink onto the other, summoning bed covers for both of them from his bedroom.

"Go to sleep Mr. Potter and thank you for your help," the teacher mumbled tiredly, before he succumbed to a much needed sleep, not sure if Harry had even heard what he said.

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When Harry woke up, unaware of the fact that the teacher had inefficiently tried to wake him up for more than ten minutes, while he was captured in a fevered nightmare, the professor was not on his sofa anymore. Harry blearily dragged himself into an upright position and slowly made his way to the potions lab, seeing that Snape was just setting up a cauldron.

"Good morning, Professor," he greeted the man, swaying a little as he stumbled towards his chair.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter, are you sure that you want to assist again?" the Potions Master queried, quirking an eyebrow.

"Of course, sir; are you feeling well enough to brew at all?" Harry enquired softly, knowing that the teacher probably felt as bad as himself.

"Well, being up to brew half the night won't help our condition to improve," Snape smirked. "However, your own condition gives much more reason for concern than mine, because you're so extremely malnourished since you returned from your relatives' care."

Harry nearly managed to cut his finger, startled as he heard the professor's words. "I'm fine," he mumbled, causing the Slytherin Head of House to snort.

"Mr. Potter, we're going to have a detailed conversation about your home life as soon as we're both completely back to health."

Harry sighed inwardly but felt too miserable to think of something to return. Instead, he concentrated on his ingredients when all of a sudden Dobby appeared again.

"Master Severus, Mistress Poppy is extremely angry at both of yous, because yous left yours beds during the night.

Snape pointed to the three batches of potions that were finished. "Please take these into Poppy's office, Dobby, and tell her that we slept on the sofas in my living room to spare us all the way back to the hospital wing, and we might do so today as well."

Dobby nodded eagerly and popped away, causing Harry to frown. "Will we get into trouble, sir?" he asked hesitantly.

"I won't since I'm only doing my job, but you will of course. Since all classes are cancelled for the moment, you have no excuse to be in my private lab," the teacher smirked.

Harry sighed, noticing that his potions were wearing off again. "Go back to bed, Mr. Potter. I'm only going to finish this batch, and then I'm going to lie down as well. Now all that is left to brew are three batches of fever reducer."

"No Professor, I'm going to keep you company in case you feel dizzy or anything happens, and I'll help you with the next batches after our next nap," Harry replied firmly.

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They finished the last potions on the next day, and fearing that Madam Pomfrey would come down and throw a temper tantrum if they didn't show up in the hospital wing, they slowly dragged themselves back to their beds, heavily leaning on each other for support.

A few days later, the whole school was up and about again with the exception of Severus and Harry. '_At least classes won't begin for another week_,' Harry thought in relief, glad that the Headmaster was so considerate to give everyone the chance to completely recover before classes resumed. One day, he woke up noticing that the Potions Master was sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Professor," he said in surprise.

"Mr. Potter," Snape smirked, "why in the world didn't you tell anyone how your relatives neglected and abused you?"

"Neglected? Abused?" Harry repeated totally astonished. "Professor, are you still...?"

"No, I am not delirious, if that's what you are indicating," Snape replied silkily. "However, you told me enough while you were delirious. Anyway, I've spoken with my colleagues, and the Headmaster has agreed for Professor McGonagall and me to become your guardians if that is agreeable with you."

"Agreeable?" Harry blurted out. "That would be absolutely fantastic, at least for me," he added in a small voice. "Are you sure that I won't be too much of a burden, sir?"

"Definitely not, and we will prepare the guardianship parchments accordingly," Snape said contentedly, before he pointed to a wizard's chess set on the small table next to him. "Would you like to play chess, Mr. Potter?"

"I can't play well, but I'd like to learn how to play properly. Professor, are you allowed out of bed yet?" he asked, sad that he was the last in bed in spite of having fallen ill at first.

"No, but Madam Pomfrey will be away for at least another hour," the Slytherin replied, motioning Harry to begin.

Harry noticed quickly that the professor played extremely well, and the first round only took ten minutes. They had just set up the game anew when Professor McGonagall entered the hospital wing, throwing her colleague a menacing glare.

"Severus, as guardian to a third year you have to set a good example. You're supposed to be in bed," she scolded him lightly, although the edges of her mouth pulled slightly upwards at the sight of her colleague and her student playing chess together.

"Well, you see Minerva," Severus sighed, grinning, "I'm not taking my responsibility lightly. I'm just teaching our ward how to play wizard's chess."

"Of course, that's important," McGonagall laughed. "Just to let you know, Harry, all the permanent residents of Hogwarts are conducting chess tournaments every now and then. As Professor Snape's and my ward you're going to be a permanent resident as well, so from now on you'll have to participate in our chess tournaments.

"As long as I don't have to play against Professor Trelawney," Harry mused aloud, remembering how the professor had predicted his death only a day before he fell ill. "She might be able to predict what I'm going to do."

His guardians smirked. "If she could predict as much," McGonagall began but was interrupted by Snape.

"Don't forget, Minerva, you have to set a good example."

Harry tiredly lay back and listened to his new guardians' playful bickering with a mixture of delight and amusement. '_This illness wasn't so bad_,' he mused, '_everything is going to get better now_.'

**The End**

_

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I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me to correct them._

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


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